THE OLD BUCCANEER
THE OLD SEA-DOG AT THE ADMIRAL BENBOW
S QUIRE TRELAWNEY, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17 --, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow Inn, and the brown old seaman, with the saber-cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.
I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pig-tail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the saber-cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cove and whistling to himself